


This Is My Body, This Is My Blood

by dsa_archivist



Category: due South
Genre: Drama, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1999-05-10
Updated: 1999-05-10
Packaged: 2018-11-10 19:29:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11133225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dsa_archivist/pseuds/dsa_archivist
Summary: Note from Speranza, the archivist: this story was once archived atDue South Archive. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address onDue South Archive collection profile.





	This Is My Body, This Is My Blood

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Speranza, the archivist: this story was once archived at [Due South Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Due_South_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Due South Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/duesoutharchive).

This Is My Body, This Is My Blood
    
    
    **Rated R (adult themes, language).  Drama.**
    

# This Is My Body, This Is My Blood
    
    
    By: Michelle Sinclair
    
     Cover her face; mine eyes
                        dazzle; she died young.
                              John Webster
                                    
    The alarm clock blared insistingly.  It had been doing just that for
    upwards of two minutes, yet Constable Benton Fraser made no move in response
    to it. He lay there, on his hard bed in his austere apartment in Chicago,
    eyes locked on the ceiling.  Diefenbaker, his wolf, slumbered indolently
    on the floor nearby. A morbid, ugly sensation had a vice grip on Benton's
    soul and he knew of no way to expunge it.  Throughout the night as he
    attempted in vain to sleep, he couldn't get the image of the girl out
    of his head.  Girl?  Could you call her that anymore? A lifeless corpse
    was what she was.  A call had come into the station at around six o'clock
    last night. Benton could still hear the ring of the phone on Ray Vecchio's
    desk . . . 
                                 *****
    ". . . so as you can see Ray, once one comprehends even the most
    basic facts about--" Ben's sentence was cut off by the phone ringing.
    He watched Ray reach for the receiver and pick it up.
    "Vecchio."
    "Detective Ray Vecchio?"
    "That's what I said, right?"  Ray was more than a bit on edge
    this evening and he wasn't at all sure why.  Nothing was going on out
    of the ordinary.  Ray wrote it off to the lousy tuna sandwich he ate
    at lunch.
    "This is D.t. Lois Hicks, 37th Precinct, Vice."
    "How nice for you," Ray replied, growing ever more impatient
    with this woman on the phone.  He wanted to get out of the station, it
    was getting late and his poker game was tonight. "We have a situation.
    Could you come downtown?"
    "Now?  Look honey, it's late and I'm off duty in five seconds so
    can this--" "It cannot wait.  Please detective."
    "All right--this had better be good."
    "And detective?"
    "Yes?"
    "Bring your Mountie."
    "Excuse me?"
    "You do have one, don't you?"
    "Oh, sure, doesn't everybody?"  After getting the address of
    where D.t.. Hicks was, he hung up the phone and turned to Ben.  "Come
    on Benny, we're going on a field trip." "A field trip?  Really?"
    Ben responded.
    "I've been summoned downtown by some detective from the 37th.  And,
    I've been instructed to 'bring my Mountie'."
    Ben cocked an eyebrow.  "Indeed."
    Ben and Ray took the Riv. downtown.  It was a terribly cliche situation.
    They entered a seedy part of town and went inside of a sort of "No
    Tell Motel."  The man at the desk didn't pay any attention to them
    when they approached him.  "Let me handle this, Benny." "Of
    course Ray, as you know, I have no jurisdiction here." "Right."
    Ray hit the top of the little bell on the desk. That seemed to rouse
    the man from his stupor.  "Hey Buddy," Ray said, flashing the
    guy a big toothy grin. The man looked at Ray and then slowly slid his
    gaze in Ben's direction.  "Whatever you're into," he grumbled.
    He went to toss Ray a room key.
    Ben decided it was time to interject, "Um, pardon me, sir ,if you
    would but I believe there has been a slight communications break down.
    D.t.. Vecchio and I are here to see a crime scene." "Oh, fourth
    floor, room 406."
    "Thank-you kindly.  Ray?"  Ben gestured toward the staircase
    with his head.  Ray glared at the man behind the desk.  They climbed
    up to the fourth floor to find room 406.  As they made their way there,
    Benton couldn't help but feel a chill creep up his spine.  D.t.. Hicks
    was waiting for them. Ben noticed (as did Ray) that she was an uncommonly
    attractive woman.  She was in her late twenties.  Her long auburn hair
    was pulled back in a French braid.  She wore an impeccably tailored black
    suit.  
    "Gentlemen, glad you could make it.  D.t. Lois Hicks," she
    said.  Her voice was crisp and clean, she had a decidedly no-nonsense
    air about her.  She virtually sidestepped Ray and approached Ben.  "And
    this is the famed Mountie."
    "Well, I wouldn't say  famed' ma'am.  As you may not know, I am
    simply the liaison officer at the Canadian Consulate--"
    "Oh, I know all about you constable."  She considered him for
    a moment.  Then, "Come see this.  You too, Vecchio."
    "Ooh.  Me too?  I feel honored," Ray sneered.  
    They carefully made their way toward the body.  The sight of it was almost
    too gruesome to behold, even for a veteran cop who'd "seen it all."
    It lie there, in a pool of blood. The girl's wrists and ankles were bound
    with a white cord of some sort.  Blood seeped through the cord, turning
    it almost completely crimson.  The body was on its back, stretched out,
    hands above its head.  Her throat had been slashed from jugular to jugular
    and blood had been spilling out of that wound for what appeared to be
    some time now.  The blood leaked onto the floor, her dress, everywhere
    it seemed.  The dress was white, her hair was blond and she was impossibly
    young. Too young to have met this fate.  
    "Jesus--who is she?"  Ray asked finally after taking in all
    that he saw.  It was exceedingly difficult to look at her.  Ben felt
    nausea creep over him.  It was odd to feel that way because he was usually
    able to detach himself from his emotions when on a case such as this.
    But there was something about this girl . . . 
    "Her name was Lydia Hart.  She was a prostitute.  Seventeen years
    old.  And, also she was Canadian," she looked pointedly at Ben.
    "Indeed," he managed.  "That dress, it appears to be one
    a girl might wear at confirmation." "Very good, constable.
    Indeed it is.  This is the second dead prostitute we've found murdered
    like this in as many days."
    "Second?  Was the first Canadian too?"  Ray asked.
    "No.  She was American.  Karen Quin, age 19.  However, the common
    thread these two girls share--besides the style in which they were murdered--is
    that they work for the same pimp.His name is Lionel Manning--surprise,
    surprise--another Canadian." "So that's why we're here,"
    Ray said.
    "Nothing gets by you, Vecchio.  But I need your help.  You and the
    Mountie can pick up Mr. Manning and question him."
    "Prey tell what will you be doing?"  Ray wanted to know. "Going
    undercover.  Talking to the girls.  Usual vice work.  From both angles,
    with our combined efforts, we should be able to solve this case before
    anyone else has to die." "All right Hicks, but I'll have to
    clear this with Lt. Welsh." "Already done.  I had my Lieutenant
    tell yours."
    "How considerate of you," Ray said bitingly.  "Come on
    Benny, we've got a scumbag to find."
    "Excuse me, D.t. Hicks?  I was wondering if we could have copies
    of the crime scene reports for both murders?"
    "I'll have them sent to you."
    "Thank-you kindly."  Ben went down stairs, he found Ray waiting
    and they went to the Riv. As Ray drove Ben home, he noticed that his
    best friend looked immensely troubled. His face was wrought with some
    dark emotion.  It made Ray feel uneasy.
    "Hey Benny, you okay?"
    "Hmm?  Oh, yes Ray, fine," Benny said, snapping out of his
    reverie. "You sure?  You seem far away."
    "I've never felt--quite so disturbed by a crime scene before Ray."
    "I know what you mean Benny.  Pretty sick."
    "It's more than that.  It's as if . . . as if I've . . .  seen it
    somewhere before." "But you can't remember?"
    "No.  . . . odd . . . "
    "Yeah.  Well, I'll have this Manning guy picked up and we'll let
    him stew in a cell overnight and interrogate him in the morning."
    Ben didn't respond.  "Benny?  You hear me?" "Yes Ray.
    In the morning."  They had pulled up to Ben's building. "You
    gonna be okay Benny?"
    "Yes Ray, I'll see you in the morning."
    "Get some rest.  You look like hell."
    "Goodnight Ray," Ben said.  Ray watched his friend go inside
    and then pulled away. 
                                 *****
    Ben snapped out of his daze and turned off the alarm clock.  Enough reliving
    the events of last night, it was time to get down to the station and
    get on with the case.It was time to solve the crime 'before
    anyone else has to die.' 
                                 *****
                         The dead don't share.
                      Though they reach toward us
                        From the grave (I swear
                            they do) they do
                      not hand their hearts to you
                         They hand their heads,
                         the part that stares.
                               Stan Rice
                           from "Their Share"
                          Body of Work (1983)
                                    
    Ben was dressed and ready to go.  He was waiting for Ray to come by,
    honk the horn and then he and Dief would go downstairs.  
    "The trail's cold by now, son," came the voice of Sgt. Bob
    Fraser.  Ben spun around and there stood his dead father.
    "Must you keep doing that?"  Ben asked impatiently.
    "Doing what, son?"
    "Sneaking up on me!  Don't you ever knock?  Or do manners go by
    the wayside when you're dead?"
    "Sorry, son, but there really is no way to announce my coming. 
    Now, it's time to get going, son.  You have a case to solve."
    "I have to wait for Ray.  It's his case, not mine."
    "Semantics son.  Did I ever tell you about the time I was in Red
    Deer and there was this string of--"
    "Dad I really haven't got the time to make chitchat right now. 
    I have to get going." "Listen to your father, son.  Now's the
    time for action!  You have to get your man!" "I know that dad.
    If you'll excuse me . . ."
    "Well all right son, if you really must go.  But there is something
    rather important that you should know."
    "What is it dad?"
    "Your hat's on crooked."  Ben turned to look in the mirror.
    "Oh, it is not.  Dad, why must you insist on being such a--"
    But Ben realized that his father had vanished as quickly as he had arrived.
    "Impossible," Ben muttered.  Suddenly, Ben heardthe
    incessant beeping of a car horn.  He looked out the window. "Hey
    Benny! What gives?  You starting to take after Dief?" "Sorry
    Ray, I was just . . . talking to someone.  I'm on my way down."
    "Well come on, we've got a sleeze bucket to question."
    Ben went downstairs with Dief and got into Ray's car.  "You had
    no trouble finding Mr. Manning, I presume?"  Ben said.
    "None at all, he practically fell into our laps.  Jesus Benny, did
    you sleep at all last night?" "I was in and out of consciousness."
    "Still bugged by that crime scene, huh?"
    "Apparently."
    "Well, once we nail this guy you'll feel a lot better." "You
    believe it was the pimp who murdered those two girls?" "I don't
    know.  Who else?"
    "It could be any number of people, Ray.  We can't rule out anyone
    at this point." "I'm not ruling anybody out.  All I'm sayin'
    is that this guy is suspect numero uno." "I would agree that
    he is a prime suspect, Ray, but we still have to make a thorough investigation
    of all viable options before we--"
    "Enough already.  Stop with the babbling!  What's up with you, buddy?
    You sure you're up to working on this case?  Cause maybe if it bothers
    you so much you should let me handle it." "Unnecessary Ray.
    I am perfectly capable of working on this or any other case." "Whatever
    you say Benny."  They arrived at the police station.  Manning was
    waiting for them to question him.  Benny and Ray went in.
    "It's about fucking time!  You gonna release me now or what?  I'm
    pissed off man.  You can't keep me here.  You got nothing on me!"
    "Quiet down, prick!  Let me explain how this is gonna fly.  We ask
    the questions and you answer them.  Got that?"
    "No, I don't got that!  I want a lawyer."
    "Too bad.  Constable?  Your questions?"  Ray looked at Benny.
    "Yes.  Mr. Manning.  Would you like to tell us your line of work?"
    "Fuck off."
    "Mr. Manning, we are investigating the homicides of two young women
    named Lydia Hart and Karen Quin.  Do those names ring a bell?"
    "Nope."
    "Forget it Benny this bastard's not talking.  Let's go book him."
    "For what?  I haven't fucking done nothing!"
    "I'd call murdering two young women something, wouldn't you Benny?"
    "Ray, we haven't yet establ--" Benny cut himself off mid sentence
    realizing what Ray was up to.  "Actually, with the evidence we have
    against Mr. Manning, I'd say he's done quite a lot to deserve to be 'booked.'"
    "This is bull shit.  I didn't kill those girls!  Why would I?  They
    made big mon-" "Give it up Manning.  We know you were their
    pimp.  But this is bigger than that man.  We have a killer on the prowl
    and we think it's you," Ray boomed. "I didn't kill those girls!
    I swear.  I was in Toronto for a week, I just got back last nightand those two cops picked me up."
    "Fine, assuming you were in Toronto and assuming you can prove it,
    any idea who might have killed those girls?"
    "How would I know?"
    "You were in Toronto?  So who was running the show for you here?"
    "No one."
    "Oh really?  You want us to believe you took off for a little trip
    to Toronto and just left your hookers here to do as they wish?  Come
    on Manning."
    "I don't know what you're talking about."  The guy was pissing
    Ray off and he lunged at him, grabbing his throat.  
    "Ray!  Ray, stop it.  This won't solve anything." Benny pulled
    Ray back from Manning and they exited to room.  Ray pulled away from
    Benny and tried to calm down.  "Can we hold him here? Do we have
    anything on him?"
    "No . . . we've got nothing," Ray admitted.  "Nothing
    that would hold up.  Fuck!" "Perhaps we should try questioning
    some of the other girls that work for him.  I'm sure Miss Hicks could
    provide a list of names she seems--"
    "That's her angle Benny, she's going undercover.  Those girls won't
    talk to cops." The phone rang on Ray's desk.  He picked it up. 
    "Vecchio." "It's Hicks, anything happen with Manning?"
    "Naw, he was in Toronto all week, he just got in last night from
    Toronto.  Besides this guys slime, but he's not the murdering type."
    "I know that Vecchio.  I just thought he maybe had an idea about
    what these two girls where up to that got them into so much trouble."
    "They were hookers!  That's what got them into trouble." "There's
    more going on than that, Vecchio.  I spoke to some of Manning's other
    girls last night, they're pretty freaked out by this, they won't tell
    me, but they know something." As Ray continued talking to Hicks
    (arguing was more like it) Ben slipped back into the room where Manning
    was still sitting.
    "I was wondering if I could have a few more words with you, Mr.
    Manning?" he said. "We're not in Canada. I don't have to talk
    to you, Mountie." "Actually, that's not entirely true.  I have
    yet to call and check but I am sure that you have an impressive record
    up in Canada and as a member of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police it
    would be my duty to bring you to justice.  Of course there would have
    to be an extradition hearingbut I'm sure that would be a
    mere formality and--"
    "Now I know why I left Canada . . . okay, ask away, Mountie--but
    this is off the record." "Of course.  Now, do you know anyone
    who might have held a grudge against either the two girls or you?"
    "No.  No one I know."
    "Anything strange happen lately?  Out of the ordinary?" "No.
    But let me tell you this.  Those two, Lydia and Karen, were trouble makers.
    Something like this was bound to happen."
    "What do you mean?"
    "I mean, they where always going out on their own, finding their
    own Johns.  Trouble." "Thank you kindly for your help, Mr.
    Manning."  Ben went back out of the room.  "Come on Benny,
    we're going down to the 37th to meet Hicks.  Were you just talking to
    him? Forget it Benny.  Elaine confirmed his alibi, he came in on AIR
    CANADA,last night at 8 P.M.. Several people saw the bastard
    at the airport." "He told me that the two girls were trouble
    makers.  He said they would go out on their own and find their own Johns."
    "Yeah well, maybe it's something.  We have to go talk to Hicks.
    You ready?" "Yes."
                                 *****
    On their way to the station to meet Hicks, Ray received a call on his
    cellular phone.  It was Hicks, telling him to meet her at a hotel.  Another
    body had been found.  But this time there was one major difference.
    Ray parked the Riv. outside the Omni Hotel.  He let out a low whistle.
    "Well, looks like our murderer is moving up in the world."
    They went into the hotel and told the desk clerk they where police officers.
    The clerk directed them to the penthouse where Hicks was. "We have
    to stop meeting like this," Ray said upon seeing her. "Yes,
    I agree."
    "Same thing?" Ray asked not really wanting to go look at the
    body himself. "Yes.  Same kind of wounds, the same white cord. 
    The same dress.  I'll give the bastard one thing . . . he is meticulous."
    Ben felt the horror engulf him again, he didn't want to look at the body.
    In fact he realized that was the last thing he wanted to do.  Nevertheless,
    he was inexpiably drawn toward the girl.  If it was possible, this murderer
    was even more horrendous.  "How old?"  he choked.  "Sixteen.
    Her name was Mandy Carlton.  I just spoke to her last night at around
    11 P.M.," Hicks said as she fought back emotion.  
    Ben turned away from the body.  "Benny?  You look green." "I'm
    . . . I'm fine Ray.  She was . . . "
    "American."
    "Who's this room registered to?" Ray asked.
    "Her."
    "What?  How could a sixteen-year-old hooker afford the rate here?"
    "Well, I figure whoever killed her must have given her the money
    in advance to rent the room. I already questioned the desk clerk who
    was on duty last night and several of the staff.Everyone
    says she came in alone.  They saw no one else with her." "The
    elevator is the only way up here.  I noticed that the elevator operator
    had to insert a key into the controls in order to get us up here,"
    Ben said.
    "Yeah, it's for security purposes," Ray said "So whoever
    came up here to kill her had to use the elevator."
    "Did you speak to the operator?" Ben asked.
    "No.  He wasn't here.  He called in sick today."
    Ben and Ray exchanged glances.  "You have his name and address?"
    Ray asked. "Yes, here.  You go find him.  Bring him in for questioning.
    I'll finish here and meet you back at your station."
    "Got it.  Come on Benny."  Ray turned to head out.  "Benny?"
    Ben was still staring at the body.  He knew there was something he was
    missing.  It was there, on the edge of his thoughts, teasing him.  But
    the information wouldn't come. 
    "Let's go Ray."
                                 *****
    It was too late.  Ben and Ray knew it as soon as they arrived at the
    apartment of the elevator operator.  The door was slightly ajar.  Ray
    removed his revolver and backed into the room saying "Police!."
    But there was no one inside to hear him.  What they found was the body
    of a man inthe uniform of the Omni hotel.  He had obviously
    been shot several times in the chest.  Raybent down to feel
    for a pulse.  There was none.  He called it in on his cellular phone.
    Hethen called Hicks and told her.  As he was talking to Hicks
    about their next move he watchedas Ben carefully surveyed
    the room. Ray closed the phone.  "Hey Benny take a look at this."Benny walked over to Ray.  Ray was pointing at a bloody fingerprint
    on the man's name tag."Bingo."
                                 *****
    Ray and Benny went back to station and Hicks met them there.  They waited
    impatiently for the lab analysis of that fingerprint.  It was the first
    viable one from any of the now fourcrime scenes.
    "It's obvious.  This guy was the only witness to the murderer being
    in the penthouse.  So our pal had to eliminate him," Ray concluded.
    "I was looking at the guest list of the hotel.  Seems there's a
    joint conference being heldthere this week.  It started five
    days ago.  Several Canadian and American delegates arestaying
    there," Hicks added.
    "These murders started four days ago . . . you think it could be
    one of the delegates?" Ray pondered.
    "Maybe.  Any thoughts constable?"
    "Hmm?  Oh . . .  uh--no."  He was lost in that dark place again.
    Why couldn't he just remember?  It was driving him insane.  He felt himself
    losing his grip on reality.  Darkimages danced in his mind.
    A name swirled there.  He couldn't make it out.  A police reporthe read long ago . . . 
    what was it?   In Chicago?  One of Ray's files?  No.  . . .  that wasn't
    it.  It was long ago.He was young.  And he wasn't supposed
    to be looking at it and if his father caught him hewould
    be in big trouble . . . 
    
                 Tempting to place in coherent collage
                   the bee, the mountain range, the 
                                 shadow
                              of my hoof--
               tempting to join them, enlaced by logical
                        vast & shining molecular
                   thought-threadthru all Substance--
      			. . . .                                      
                          Tempting
                       to say I see in all I see
                      the place where the needle 
                      began the tapestry--but ah,
                     it all looks whole and part--
               long live the eyeball and the lucid heart.
                               Stan Rice
                    from "Four Days in Another City"
                            Some Lamb (1975)
                                    
    "Here you go, the lab report on that bloody finger print,"
    Elaine said as she handed Ray the report.
    "Ray!"
    "In a minute, Benny. Let me read this."
    "No!  Ray.  I know.  I know who the murderer is!  I can't believe
    I couldn't remember.  Well, I apparently have been repressing it all
    these years.  It must have been too traumatic forsuch a young
    boy to deal with but I know now!  Ray?  Are you listening to me? The murderer is--"
    "Ambassador Jean Baptiste LeClerc," Ray said.
    "That's what I was going to say, Ray."
    "Sure Benny.  Come on.  Let's pick this bastard up."
                                 *****
    It turned out that Mr. LeClerc had a morbid fixation with hookers.  What
    he had done in the past in Canada and was doing now in the U.S.A was
    arranging a 'date' with a girl and thensacrificing her to
    God as an offering.  He would never have sex with the girls, just forcethem to put on these confirmation dresses, pray with him as they
    begged for their lives andthen he would slash their ankles,
    wrists and finally throat with a butcher's knife.  He feltthat
    through the purging of the blood from their bodies their souls would
    once again be pureand clean. 
    Ambassador LeClerc was arraigned on four counts of murder.  Three of
    the counts were Murder one and the fourth count was Murder two.  He had
    confessed to all four crimes upon being questioned.  Also
    there were five counts of murder that were outstanding in Red Deer,Alberta for a man named Jean Clerc.  This apparently being the
    only case on record in whichSgt. Robert Fraser didn't get
    his man. Through Ben's help it was revealed that the menwere
    one and the same. 
     
                                 *****
                         	    EPILOGUE
      
    Ben and Ray where out to dinner with Lois Hicks celebrating their joint
    effort in capturing the Ambassador.
    "I must say, Vecchio, I was quite impressed by the work you and
    your Mountie did," Lois said this teasingly, with a slow smile spreading
    across her face.
    "Yeah, well what can I say," Ray returned her smile and drained
    his glass of red wine. "Ray, I must inform you that it would be
    unwise to drink any more wine as you are the designated driver."
    "Not to worry constable, I can drive you home," Lois said seductively.
    "Well, even though that would be sufficient to solve my problem,
    I am afraid it would be inadequate to solve the problem of D.t. Vecchio's
    ride home." "God Vecchio, is he always this uptight?"
    Lois asked.
    "No, he's usually much more annoying than this.  Lighten up Benny.
    Have some wine.  Have a lot of wine."
    "Then how will we get all get home."
    "Taxis, son, this isn't Tuktoyuktuk," said Ben's father, appearing
    behind Ray's chair. "Right you are.  Waiter?  More wine please."
    "Yes sir."
    "Thank you kindly."
     
    THE END 
    


End file.
